Lisa plopped herself back down into her seat with a huff, crossing her arms as she eyed Alice. "Okay, seriously. Did he just suggest nullifying the engagement?"
Mina, blinked . "That was… bold. That's So not like him."
Lisa leaned forward, eyebrows raised. "So? What's his angle? Do you really think he can pull that off?"
"I don't know. If it were that easy, I wouldn't have been stuck in this arrangement for three years."
Jason slid into the backseat of the car as Daisy shut the door behind him. The engine purred to life.
"We have another issue to handle," Daisy said, flipping through a tablet. "It's the bar a few blocks down. We've been getting anonymous complaints—bad customer service, poor management, lots of noise complaints…"
Jason rubbed his temple. "Right… that place."
He remembered now. The bar.
Each young master and miss in the Yun family was given projects to manage.
one challenging project to see how they handled adversity, and one supposedly easy one to see if they could maintain success. Jason had turned a prime location—just minutes from a high school—into a bar. A bar. In broad daylight, with zero nightlife appeal, next to a damn school.
It was a damn flop!
But it wasn't just incompetence. Jason remembered now: in the novel, this bar was one of the protagonist's early wins—he'd won it from Jason in a bet and turned it into a goldmine. What Jason hadn't realized back then was that the bar's failure wasn't entirely his fault. One of his own cousins had been paying the staff to intentionally sabotage the business—deliberately driving away customers with terrible service and shady practices.
To make matters worse, one of Jason's own security personnel had been secretly working with that cousin, tipping off the staff whenever Jason was planning a visit.
On those days, the staff would suddenly act professional and courteous, cleaning up their act just enough to avoid suspicion. That's why, no matter how many complaints he'd heard, Jason could never find anything wrong when he showed up.
He leaned forward "stop up a head
Jason turned to Daisy and texted her something discreetly. She read it, nodded, then stepped out of the car.
"Where's she going?" one of the guards asked.
"She's going to check out the clothing shop a few doors down," Jason lied smoothly. "It's close by, and she'll catch up with us. Relax."
They pulled off toward a nearby food strip. Jason insisted they skip the fancy places and stopped at a street vendor selling fried chicken. The guards gave him wary looks.
"That's a lot of calories," one warned.
"I'll burn it off later," Jason replied with a smirk. "Can't be strict all the time. Sometimes you gotta live a little."
Meanwhile, Daisy had changed out of her formal attire into something more casual — a simple hoodie, jeans, and sneakers. Nothing flashy, just enough to blend in. She checked her appearance in the mirror of a nearby café bathroom before stepping out, pulling her hair into a loose ponytail.
She clipped a discreet camera onto the inside seam of her jacket, angled just enough to capture the bar's interior. Another mic — smaller than a dime — was already tucked behind her collar. Jason had briefed her clearly: don't draw attention, don't cause a scene, and whatever you do, don't act like you're there for anything but a drink.
Back in the car, Jason leaned his elbow against the window, the city scenery blurring past. His mind wandered — half on the meeting ahead, half on the bar mess he was now preparing to fix.
Then a street sign flashed past: Gardon Street.
He sat up straight.
That name…
His brows furrowed. Where had he—
Then it hit him. The divine app. The alert from earlier that morning.
2:15 PM. Gardon Street."
Jason's eyes snapped down to his watch.
2:10 PM.
His stomach tensed. "Pull over. Now."
The driver, startled, glanced in the rearview mirror but didn't question it. He guided the car to the curb.
Before his guards could even ask what was going on, Jason was already jogging down the sidewalk, eyes scanning every alley and storefront.
He didn't know exactly what to expect — only that something was going to happen. A few students passed by, laughing. An old man fed birds near a bench. Nothing seemed out of place… until a sudden shift caught his eye.
Up ahead, just off the main street, two figures were struggling to drag someone into a narrow alley. Whoever they were pulling was kicking violently — small, slim
Jason's pulse spiked.
"HEY!" he shouted, his voice echoing off the concrete.
The two men froze for a split second, then bolted down the alley, leaving the body behind. Jason chased after them but stopped halfway — one of the shadows disappeared into a side route. The other stumbled, and Jason grabbed the nearest object — a loose brick from the base of a construction wall — and hurled it.
It connected with a sharp thud, and the guy crumpled to the ground.
Jason didn't waste a second. As soon as the thug disappeared into the alley's shadows, he rushed over to the one lying on the ground and swiftly disarmed him, kicking the weapon out of reach. The guy groaned, semi-conscious, blood trickling from where Jason's earlier throw had struck him.
Then Jason turned to the victim—curled up and trembling near the wall. Their frame was small, clearly shaken, clothes scuffed and dirtied from the struggle. A short wig sat awkwardly on their head, tilted slightly from all the commotion.
Jason crouched down, trying to be gentle.
"Hey… can you hear me?" he asked, his voice calm, careful not to startle them.
They flinched at the sound, pulling away slightly.
Jason raised his hands slowly. "It's alright. You're safe now. I'm not with them."
No response. Just silent trembling.
"Can you talk?" he asked after a pause. "Do you know where you are?"
The person opened their mouth like they were trying to say something—but nothing came out. No sound. Not even a breath of a word.
Jason's brow furrowed. Maybe it was the shock of what just happened he'd often heard of people going mute after traumatic events.
"It's okay," he said softly, shrugging off his jacket and placing it gently over their shoulders. "You don't have to say anything. Just breathe. You're alright."
Footsteps echoed down the alley as his security team finally caught up. One of them glanced between the unconscious attacker and Jason.
"Call the police," Jason ordered without looking away from the victim. "And get an ambulance down here. Fast."
The guard nodded, already dialing.
Jason stayed beside the victim, watching over them silently as they sat trembling against the wall, arms wrapped tightly around themselves. He could see the fear still in their eyes.
He didn't know what this kid had been through… but something told him it wasn't the first time they'd been this scared.